But there was no need.

The towering threat and the flaming eye and the swift rush buffeted the caitiff away: he recoiled.

She followed him as he went, strong, FOR A MOMENT OR TWO, as Hercules, beautiful and terrible as Michael driving Satan.

He dared not, or could not stand before her: he writhed and cowered and recoiled all down the room, while she marched upon him.

But the driven serpent hissed horribly as it wriggled away.
"You shall both be turned out of Beaurepaire by me, and forever; I swear it, parole de Perrin." He had not been gone a minute when Josephine's courage oozed away, and she ran, or rather tottered, into the Pleasaunce, and clung like a drowning thing to Rose, and, when Edouard took her hand, she clung to him.